


Pregnant Pauses

by apollaskywalker



Series: Benjamin and Mary Tallmadge [8]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy, the author apologizes for the cliche title
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-09-23 04:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9640589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollaskywalker/pseuds/apollaskywalker
Summary: Scenes of Mary's first pregnancy (Is there *plot*? Not really. Just short scenes.)





	1. Curious Cravings

Her stomach woke her in the middle of the night. Joyfully, for the first time in a few weeks, it wasn’t because she was nauseated or needed to run for a basin. Instead she was _hungry_. She extricated herself from the covers and Ben’s arm, which woke him. He hummed a question, his eyes half opened. “Go back to sleep,” she told him. “I’m just getting a snack.” Again, he hummed, this time in acknowledgement. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

Mary donned her dressing gown and headed down the stairs to the kitchen. Once inside, she lit a candle and began rifling through the cupboards to find what she wanted to eat. She took down a jar of jam and then the thought turned her stomach, so she put it back. She wanted something sweet…but also something with a salt component. Something slightly sour as well. She took down a jar of pickles and set it aside to find the answer to the desire for sweets. While reaching for a jar to see what it contained, she recalled making donuts the day before. Perfect.

 She plated a donut and then speared a pickle before replacing the jar. 

Midway through her snack, Ben joined her. “A snack sounded go- _what_ are you _eating_?”

 

~*~

  

It wasn’t until close to closing that John finally got a chance to take Ben aside for a private discussion. Expecting finances to be the topic, Ben glanced at the ledger where he kept his records. “I’ve been thinking about that story you told me this morning, about Mrs. T and the pickles?” Ben grinned in amusement. “And if you’re not ready to announce it yet, I understand but…is Mary pregnant?”

The amusement vanished from Ben’s face. “What? No.”

“Are you sure?” John pressed. “Strange food combinations and cravings are a sign of pregnancy – I’d say donuts and pickles qualify as strange.”

Again, Ben smiled. “She isn’t. If she were, she would have told me.”

John nodded in understanding. “Maybe she doesn’t know herself yet.” 

Flustered, Ben adjusted his queue. “She would know. No, Mary is not pregnant.” He started to leave. 

“Care to place a wager on that?”

Ben halted. “You know perfectly well I am not a gambling man.”

 

~*~

 

At home, Ben studied Mary at every chance he had. He watched her as she moved about their house, his eyes on her waistline. Was it thicker? How would he tell if it meant pregnant or just gaining weight? Obviously if it were just regular gaining weight, it would distribute itself all over her body. If it were pregnancy related, it would be more pronounced on her stomach. But how could he tell in the early stages?

That night as they lay in bed, Ben ran his hand over her stomach, trying to feel the answer. “Please stop,” Mary asked.

“Sorry,” Ben apologized and held his hand still. 

Mary rolled over to face him so that his hand was now at her back. “Do you think I’m getting fat? Does it bother you?”

“No!” Ben denied, ashamed. Then he sighed. “I just…we’ve been married for a year…I wondered if – well, we haven’t exactly been _monks_ – “

“Benjamin. If I even suspect I’m pregnant, I will tell you. Now, good night.”


	2. Fickle Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I just want to apologize for the slavery crap. *Glares at the Tallmadges* I'm trying to handle it appropriately but if you see how I can do a better job of this, do let me know. Prince is their slave, Ben purchased him on May 19, 1784, like two months after he and Mary got married. I'll be developing the relationship between Prince and the Tallmadges over the series. 
> 
> Also, I do not know when John Tallmadge married Phebe Pomeroy. If I find out, I'll edit this.

Because she woke up without any nausea and there were spots of blood on her clothes, Mary reasoned that her suspicions were wrong and she’d been right in deciding to wait before telling Ben. That his question came two nights before the spotting and nausea free morning puzzled her – what made him wonder? Had she said anything that might have betrayed her own hopes? 

They had breakfast, she kissed Ben farewell as he left for work, and then began to do her own work. Three pairs of breeches needed mending - one of Ben’s and two of Prince’s. After the quick mend of Ben’s, she picked up a pair of Prince’s and scowled. It might be more practical to make him a new pair. She studied the second pair and decided to mend that one and sew some new ones. That would require purchasing fabric.

Mary went outside to find Prince. He was in the carriage house, fixing a wheel. “Morning, Mrs. Tallmadge,” he straightened and held his hands at his sides. “Can I help you with something, ma’am?”

“Yes, it’s about your breeches. One pair is irreparable, practically, and I wondered if you had any preference of fabric or if you think I should re-measure you.”

“Oh. No, ma’am, no preference. No need to measure me.”

“They fit well? Nothing too tight or too loose?”

“No, ma’am, everything was fine.”

Even though he’d been with them since May of the previous year, Mary still felt like Prince was afraid of her. With Ben, she could see the two of them worked well together. Ben explained what he wanted and Prince filled in the gaps to bring Ben’s vision to reality. They could discuss construction and logistics with levity and Ben would tousle the boy’s hair affectionately every now and then. But when Mary approached, his answers were stiff and formal.

“All right,” Mary smiled gently. She missed Rachel. Maybe slaves always got along better with their masters who were of the same sex?

Instead of returning to the house, Mary walked to the store. John met her when she entered. “Mrs. T! Good morning! The Colonel’s in the back with Mr. Fisher, anything I can help you with?”

Mary explained what she needed and he led her over to the bolts of cloth. He let her go through her choices without any sales pitch. Instead he asked about her health. In turn, she asked him about his health and about his bride-to-be, Phebe.

She selected a durable dark fabric for Prince and then debated over a very soft, very beautiful green cotton. It wouldn’t work for Prince, but something about it just appealed to her. Maybe she would ask Ben about it? She didn’t even have a plan for what she’d make with it, she just liked it.

John took both bolts up to the counter to measure and cut them, confident that Ben would let Mary buy anything that caught her fancy. He’d finished cutting the dark cloth and begun prompting her to think of what she wanted to do with the green when Ben and Mr. Fisher finished their business. “Mrs. Tallmadge,” Mr. Fisher inclined his head at her politely and left.

With just family around now, Ben turned to her with concern. “Is everything all right, Mary?” he reached out for her hand.

She explained about Prince’s clothes and asked him if he had any specific desire for dinner. Ben shrugged and eyed the green cloth. John gave him the sales pitch he hadn’t given Mary – that it had just arrived (so marketing potential, others would see it and come to buy), that it was practical in Mary’s hands – and Mary saw Ben’s lips quirk in amusement. “What will you do with it?” Ben asked.

“I…haven’t decided,” Mary confessed. “I just like it.”

Ben frowned. “Sorry, I’d rather you know how much you need than sell the whole bolt to myself when I could actually profit from it.”

That made sense, it really did. But when she left without it, she struggled really hard not to cry. Alone with her sewing, Mary did cry. And she couldn’t explain why she was so upset to herself.

 

~*~

 

Preparing lunch for her and Prince, she accidentally dropped a jar and it broke. Thankfully it had been empty and didn’t shatter into too many pieces, but she stomped over for the broom just in case and grumbled to herself all while cleaning it. Mostly she berated herself for being so clumsy, but also the jar for having the audacity to break.

Then the water didn’t boil as quickly as she would have liked and she started crying again.

When the water boiled, she laughed at herself and her moodiness. Perhaps her bleeding was the cause, she mused.

 

~*~

 

That night, when she changed into her nightgown, she frowned at her bloodless clothes. Aside from the spotting she’d found in the morning, she had not bled any more.

~*~

 

The next morning, she picked up the sausage to start cooking, dropped it on the pan, and ran outside to throw up into the bushes.


	3. Chapter 3

Among the ladies of Litchfield, it was an unspoken truth that if one wanted to belong to the best of society, one must be a regular attendee of Mrs. Grey’s sewing circle. Mary had been invited following her first church service after moving to Litchfield. Any officer’s wife was immediately invited but not all were invited back, in that respect, Mary was lucky. She had been invited back as often as the circle met.

Mrs. Grey had married Mr. Grey while in her late forties after her first husband left her for a rich young woman whose father owned a thriving business in Minorca. He left behind a letter swearing that their marriage had never been consummated, which caused more harm than good since they had had three children together. The magistrate annulled the marriage for other reasons, burning the letter, and the entire town rallied around Mrs. Grey. She met Mr. Grey while visiting relatives in New York. They married shortly after.

Where Mrs. Grey’s life prior to meeting her second husband had been scandalous, Mr. Grey was a quiet farm raised boy who managed to find funding for school at King’s College. A studious boy, he was mostly seen harassing his professors about philosophy and badgering linguists to translate the newest pamphlets into English so he could read them. He never once learned a word of French and while he had passed his language courses, he was abysmal at actually using them. Mrs. Grey, on the other hand, easily picked up Latin, French, and Polish, which her parents spoke before moving to the States. 

The truth was plain for all to see, the two were polar opposites. Where Mr. Grey was quiet, studious, and at times oblivious, Mrs. Grey was loud, opinionated, and a keen observer. He was tall and thin, she was squat and plump. And yet they were a perfect fit, sharing secret smiles even in their advanced ages, giggling like children as they encouraged the other to tell stories to entertain their guests.

Mary loved sitting in their parlor, sewing and chatting.

Today was no different. She brought her quilting with her. Ms. Pierce had brought similar work, so they were sitting next to each other. Eight other women also attended with only Mrs. Reeve as the notable absentee. No one asked why, Mrs. Reeve’s health consistently troubled her.

They discussed their go-to cosmetics while Mrs. Grey argued with Mr. Grey about a pamphlet he had left in her sewing basket. “Edmund, I tell you every day, Voltaire does not belong in my yarn!”

“I didn’t leave it there, my dear,” he answered, watering one of their many plants. “I left it on my bedside table.”

“No, you left Locke on your bedside table. You have an office, Edmund! Use it!”

Mary bit the inside of her cheek and glanced at Mrs. Pierce. Ms. Pierce met Mary’s eye and flashed her an open smile. “Never leave your work by a plant if you fear it becoming wet, one time he watered my embroidery. I believe he mistook the flower for a real one.”

Mary giggled. Mrs. Grey returned, bent over to pick up her sewing, and promptly came up with the Voltaire pamphlet, which she had neglected to take when chastising Mr. Grey. She frowned at it and then addressed the rest of them, “Would you ladies care to hear some of Mr. Voltaire’s poetry? It’s the _Henriade_ – not very well written but –“

“Oh!” Peggy Rosen, blushed. “I loved the _Henriade!_ ”

Mrs. Grey stared at Peggy as if the young woman had just declared roses smelled as lovely as a soldier’s worn boots. Nevertheless, she opened the text, and when no one objected, began to read.

Ben had read excerpts to her and she had read them back to him in French. His short stay as an aide to the Comte Rochambeau inspired her to visit the French delegation in Philadelphia and work on her skills. The language was pretty and Ben’s voice made anything enchanting, but she could hear the reasons Mrs. Grey called the work “not very well written” as the hostess read it.

Soon the Grey’s servant Vera delivered tea and a rich chocolate cake. As Vera served the cake, the overindulgent scent of sugar, chocolate, and cream turned Mary’s stomach. She planned to very politely say ‘no thank you’, but her stomach had other ideas.

Mary leapt to her feet and bolted for the nearest exit. In the process, she knocked Vera’s hand aside and a piece of cake fell to the floor. Mary also tripped over the other women, who tried to snatch their accoutrements out of her way and she crashed to the floor as she vomited.

Instantly, the room snapped to attention as they rushed to her side. “Stand back, ladies!” Mrs. Grey ordered, her voice sounding to Mary surely more commanding than General Washington’s ever was. “Give her some air! Vera, quick, pick this up before anyone steps on it and fetch a bowl and some water for Mrs. Tallmadge and get what you need to clean this mess.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Vera promptly obeyed.

“Please, forgive me,” Mary whispered, covering her nose with her hand so as not to smell her vomit and cause another episode. “I don’t know what came over me –“

“Nonsense. It’s a floor; it’s had worse things on it! Can you stand?” they helped her to her feet and Mrs. Grey seized her arm. She marched Mary out into the fresh air. Peggy Rosen retrieved their shawls and joined them in the chilly spring air.

“Truly, I apologize – “

Mrs. Grey fixed Mary with a stare. “Have you had episodes like that recently?”

“….yes.” 

“How often?” Mary answered as best she could. “Tired?” Mary nodded. “Tenderness of your breasts? No need to blush, we all have them!” She went through a list of questions and then at the end, patted Mary on the arm. “My dear, you are with child.”

“No, I can’t be.” Mary shook her head and the door opened to reveal Vera with a basin, cloth, and glass of water. Mary thanked her, accepted them, wiped her face and rinsed her mouth. 

“Mr. Tallmadge isn’t capable of –“

“Oh goodness, he’s more than capable – “Mary interrupted Mrs. Grey, then realized what she had been about to say. Horrified at the indecency, she amended, “I mean – we haven’t – that is, we _hav_ e – oh God!”

“You’re not the Virgin Mary, child, though you are _a_ Mary. And I’d wager everything I own that you’re pregnant!”

The door opened again, this time it was Mrs. Webb. She announced the doctor was there.

“Who summoned him?” Mrs. Grey demanded. “Just what we need, another man making a mess!”

Mrs. Webb explained with tight lips that _she_ had sent for him and Ben.

Not wanting to see the doctor but not wanting Ben to make a greater fuss, Mary longed for the ground to engulf her. In the end, the choice wasn’t offered to her. Mrs. Webb and Mrs. Grey steered Mary and the doctor to a more private room. The doctor frowned when the other women refused to leave but said nothing to them. He calmly and politely examined Mary, asked many of the same questions Mrs. Grey had, and in the end gave her the same diagnosis. “Just avoid whatever upset your stomach and you have no need to go home.”

Mary nodded without listening.

She _was_ pregnant? Really, truly? What of the bleeding? Her memory reminded her that there had just been spots. Just spots.

_Pregnant_.

Ben arrived just as the doctor left. He swept his hat from his head and grabbed the doctor by the arm. “Is she all right?”

“See for yourself, Benjamin.” Laughing, the doctor left.

In front of all the other women, Ben engulfed Mary into a hug. “Mr. Tallmadge!” she protested weakly. “We are in public!”

“They just said you collapsed,” Ben explained.

Like the examination, the choice of staying or leaving was not offered to her. Instead Ben decided she was going to go home and rest.

“I’m not sick,” she told him as he helped her onto the cart.

“Of course not, healthy people go around their friends’ homes vomiting all the time.” He jumped up to sit next to her and took the reins.

“I’m not sick,” she insisted, reaching out to touch his hands. He looked at her with exasperated tenderness and reached to touch her forehead and feel for a fever. Her words stopped him. “I’m with child.”

Ben froze. 

Eternity passed as she waited for him and prayed for him to react positively.

In a move absolutely uncharacteristic for Ben outside of the privacy of their own home, he let out a whoop. Relieved, Mary laughed and he pulled her in for a kiss.

“Oh, Benjamin!” Mr. Grey waved to them from the woodpile, evidently just alerted to their presence by Ben’s noise. “When did you get here? Mrs. Tallmadge, leaving us already?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Reeve is actually Aaron Burr's sister (small world, huh?) and she was often in poor health. Ms. Pierce is Sarah Pierce who would go on to found the Litchfield Female Academy. 
> 
> Mr. and Mrs. Grey are based upon two of my professors. The personalities, that is, not their backstories. The backstories are...very loosely based.


	4. Bump

There was a definite bump to Mary’s figure.

Unlike the other bumps she had found on her body in the past – the acne bumps, the bug bites, the swollen bulges from falls and fights, rashes, and the like – Mary didn’t look at this bump with irritation, disgust, and look for a cure or cover.

She could cover this small bump easily. She loosened her stays and corset. Thus far she did not need to take her clothes to needle and thread. Very few knew of the change to her clothes and only one knew from observation. Mrs. Grey had offered advice, as had a few other women from the sewing circle but only when they were over for tea and alone.

Ben had watched her dress one morning. At first she’d laced herself in by muscle memory. She just tightened the laces and only after she found herself uncomfortably constricted did she adjust them. He said nothing and until that night, she wasn’t even aware that he had watched. In bed that night, he smoothed his hand over her stomach and commented, “I think our baby is growing.”

Mary had shoved his hand away. It felt like he was studying a horse for sale. The bump was barely noticeable, she didn’t like the comparison even if it were only an imagined comparison. If confronted, Ben would likely be appalled and offended that she thought he would dare say anything of the kind.

When her chores were finished, she curled up with a book and, as Pepper was wont to do, the cat joined her. The cat turned around several times, sat down, got back up, turned around and around, sat, rolled over, and then chirped at Mary. “Don’t _you_ start,” Mary sighed. She adjusted to give the cat more space. Soon the cat would have to find a completely different way to snuggle while they read. 

One night Ben came home with some string. Pepper, the more curious of the kittens, tried to grab it. Ben shooed him away, picked up the string, and left the room to put it out of the cat’s reach. Mary thought nothing of it until Ben hugged her from behind while she cooked. He kissed her cheek and pointedly caressed her belly. This time she found it sweet and relaxed into his arms. “What would you say to measuring your belly once a week?”

“I would say I’m holding a spoon, do you want to rethink that question?”

Ben let go of her and cocked his head to the side. “You’re not curious to see your progress?”

“The only progress I’m interested in is when the baby’s here. Outside of me. Then I will happily measure his growth.”

“Very well. I will put the string away for when the baby’s here.” He left the kitchen and Mary poked a Brussels sprout with her spoon. The silver spoon, part of a set she and Ben had received for their wedding, had the initials BMT engraved. What would Ben do with these and everything that had her M on it if she didn’t survive her confinement?

Melt them down, probably.

She ought to leave her best dresses to Kitty, she thought.

She ought to write a will. She didn’t have power over much, but she could at least leave Ben instructions for things _he_ certainly wouldn’t use. Instructions for taking care of the baby too – provided he survived.

Mary pressed the Brussels sprout with the spoon, squishing it down into the pan. It broke under the pressure.

“MARMALADE!” Ben yelled, yanking Mary out of her Brussel sprout killing and melancholy. She hurried out of the kitchen in time to see a streak of orange as Pepper’s brother slid under a cabinet and peer out innocently. Ben thundered down the steps, holding the string in one hand and a broken dish in the other. The loose end of the roll of string was ratty and wet, as if someone had chewed on it. 

“Look at what your cat did!” Ben held out the dish.

She looked at the dish and then at Marmalade, ready to swat the cat gently. Marmalade’s eyes narrowed as he saw the string move. Mary laughed. “Cats are like toddlers, Benjamin. Why don’t you have a go at parenting?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Marmalade and Pepper, the kittens mentioned in Home Sweet Home! Pepper is white and grey and Marmalade is orange.


	5. Kick

The good reverend’s sermon might have been wonderful, it truly might have been. Unfortunately, Mary had no way of knowing as a few sentences in, she experienced a very peculiar sensation in her stomach. Taken off guard, she gasped quietly. Ben shot her a look of concern and watched as her hand settled on her swollen abdomen. Gently, he touched her arm, wordlessly asking if she was all right. Mary covered his hand with hers and squeezed reassuringly.

After her mother and Betsy died, it seemed as if her whole family just went through the motions of life. She and Kitty performed all their chores and even managed to dress fashionably enough to pass in Philadelphia society, but many of those actions had been done without their conscious effort. The mindless passage of time, the marionette feeling of her body – that terrified her when she looked back on it. She had never wanted to experience it again.

And now she rose, sang, bowed her head and folded her hands with her mind focused on the jolt she had felt in her stomach. Surrendered to the puppet master, Mary tried to rest her hand surreptitiously against her stomach. _Kick again_ , she tried to send the thought to the baby.

Service ended and they joined the Wolcotts, Grays, John, and Phebe for lunch. The sensation didn’t recur.

After the second service, they went home. They played a few games and then Ben read aloud. They were nearly finished with the novel and had started discussing what they might read next. Ben made it a page before the sensation returned. The words flowed over Mary like water but she absorbed none of them as the baby continued to kick.

Slowly, Mary moved to Ben’s side. He stopped reading as she took his hand and placed it on her belly. “I don’t know what – _oh_.” At the sound of Ben’s voice, the baby had kicked.

“He knows your voice,” Mary sniffed, tears filling her eyes.

Ben’s hand trembled.

“Keep reading,” Mary urged.


	6. Chapter 6

_Instructions in the event of my death:  
_

_Burn our letters. You will remarry, undoubtedly. You are a wonderful man, any woman would be lucky to have you as their husband. If the child lives and I do not, he will need a mother. I would not wish my successor to read our correspondence and compare herself or your relationship with her to what we had. This is as much for me as it will be for her._

_I should like to be buried with my wedding ring. If the baby is also lost, please bury us together. I would not like for him to be all alone._

Interrupted in her writings, Prince carried the mail to her. Mary paused, placed her quill in the inkwell, and accepted the letters. There were four, three of them for Ben, which she handed to Prince and asked him to place them on Ben’s desk. He left and she fanned herself with her letter for a few seconds.

The summer heat brought another level of discomfort to her pregnancy. In addition to her growing size, her stomach itched as it stretched and the heat dried her skin. She had a few creams given to her by other women, but the smell bothered her. In addition to those little irritants, she felt like a teenager again, clumsy and tripping over her own body. There were a few bruises on her arms and legs. The back pain, though, was the biggest problem. Ben probably regretted offering a back rub the first time he saw her struggle to get comfortable on evening. Now, she would look up at him hopefully each night and without one, she couldn’t fall asleep.

Even with back rubs, though, she didn’t always sleep through the night. She tossed and turned, trying to find the cool spot on the pillow, kicked off the covers and then dragged them back up, and otherwise fidgeted in discomfort that Ben had spent a few nights in a guest bedroom. 

Mary opened the letter and found its contents full of exuberance. The penmanship was not Kitty’s best, it varied in size – at times written in large letters, other times scrunched to get as many words on the page as possible. By the end of the first sentence, though, Mary didn’t care at all. She understood her sister’s excitement and shared it.

 

~*~

 

Having mentioned it once and receiving her ire over it, Ben would never say it again, but he adored Mary’s pregnant walk. Especially when she hurried to greet him with a kiss after he returned from work. “You’re in a good mood,” he observed.

“Keen spy skills at work there, my love,” she whispered. He appreciated how she kept his intelligence work just between them. Raising her voice, she replied, “I received a letter from Kitty with wonderful news.”

Wonderful news from Kitty could mean anything. Perhaps she had a new dress – then again, he doubted that would be considered ‘wonderful’ except that Mary’s present condition had made her more likely to lean towards the extreme ends of the reaction spectrum. Just a few weeks ago, he found her crying over Hector’s muddy paw prints. Even so…probably not a new dress.

Maybe one of their neighbors or relatives was also expecting a new addition to the family. Kitty would consider that wonderful news, he was fairly certain that he had heard a shriek of joy in the far distance of Long Island about the time Kitty would have received their news.

“Oh? What did she have to say?”

He followed her into the dining room where she had supper set for them. Prince entered shortly after and showed his hands to Mary. That reminded him he still needed to wash up, so he excused himself.

They sat down for supper, filled their plates, and Ben asked, “What did Kitty have to say?”

Mary put her fork down, smiled broadly, and declared, “Dr. Clarkson finally proposed!”

Prince grinned, even though at his age the opposite sex was still irritating and gross.

“And? What was Kitty’s response?” Ben asked nonchalantly, as if it were about the price of soap.

Mary sighed. “She said yes, of course! Oh – stop teasing me! Prince, when you grow up, you would be wise not to tease your wife.”

“I promise not to, ma’am,” Prince assured her. Ben winked at him.

“The wedding is in August, next month. I was thinking you could take some time off – visit your family as well as mine and –“

“Next month? You want to travel…to Long Island? To Philadelphia?” Ben was incredulous. She couldn’t be serious.

“Long Island, of course. It’s not that far away, and we’d go before the wedding and stay a bit longer –“

“Perhaps this has missed your notice, but you are _with child_. You cannot travel now! God knows when the baby will come!”

Prince reached out and grabbed two rolls without asking and stuffed them into his pockets. He then added more potatoes to his plate and took a huge bite of ham. If they were going to argue, he was going to eat what he could get his hands on before making his exit. There were of course cookies, scones, and a pie in the kitchen so he wouldn’t be hungry but he also didn’t want to risk missing out on any of the meat and potatoes. 

“First, women in my condition have traveled before –“

“And _died_.”

“And my sister and I attended many births, we understand the process. She could help me if the baby comes. And Dr. Clarkson is a doctor. I don’t understand how this is unreasonable to you.”

“May I be excused?” Prince asked. This was where the fight would begin. That comment was the calm before the storm. It was Paul Revere riding by yelling the redcoats were coming. It was Gabriel coming to Mary to tell her she’d be a mom.

It was the sign to get out of there.

“No,” Mary said at the same time Ben said, “Yes.”

Prince grabbed his plate and headed for the kitchen.

He finished eating in the kitchen, took care of his plate, and started for his room. On his way, he heard the Colonel declare, “I would rather have you unhappy than dead!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's probably not historically accurate at all to have Prince (a slave) eat with Ben and Mary but I'm sorry, he's like eight, I cannot let that poor boy eat alone. 
> 
> So yes, instead of marrying James Madison, Kitty married Dr. William Clarkson of Philadelphia. Dr. Clarkson would later become a reverend, so apparently medical things weren't quite his calling. 
> 
> I had always envisioned Kitty being there for Mary when the baby's born but when I checked the timeline and saw Kitty's wedding date, it kind of changed how/when she arrived. But if you miss Kitty, don't worry. She'll be here next chapter :D


	7. Chapter 7

Early in September, Dr. William Clarkson and Catherine Clarkson arrived in Litchfield. Mary, still pregnant (which she pointed out for a full week after Kitty’s wedding had taken place) did her best to move quickly to the side of the road to meet her sister. It took her a little bit longer; the steps from the front door to the ground gave her a little trouble. She’d had a few close calls, slipping and barely catching herself or Ben’s arm. With her swollen ankles, it didn’t surprise him that she was a bit clumsy when walking but Mary insisted the swollen ankles had nothing to do with being clumsy. Her mother, allegedly, had never been clumsy in her pregnancies but still had swollen ankles. To that, Ben reminded her of how old she had been when her mother had been pregnant.

Like Mary, Kitty was extremely excited to see her sister. She jumped down from the carriage before the horses had come to a complete stop. Ben twitched, imagining Mary in her present condition having done that if they had gone to Mastic. He caught a glimpse inside the carriage and noticed that Dr. Clarkson wore a loving smile, not at all bothered by his wife’s exuberance.

“Polly!” Kitty embraced her sister and fake struggled to put her arms around Mary. “You’re so big! Look at you!”

Braced for the tirade Mary would unleash, Ben was flabbergasted when Mary just giggled and hugged her sister back. 

“Colonel Tallmadge! What have you done to my sister?” Kitty teased him. Ben merely smiled in response. To his surprise, Kitty hugged him and then went up with Mary into the house, chatting all the way. 

Ben moved to the carriage where Prince had begun to help Dr. Clarkson unload. Ben paused to pat the horse on its nose. “Dr. Clarkson, I’m Benjamin Tallmadge –“ 

“The infamous Colonel Tallmadge,” Dr. Clarkson extended his hand to Ben. Ben accepted. “My wife has told me so much about you. Apparently I have you to thank for her as well.”

 “I sincerely doubt that,” Ben lifted a trunk and they started towards the house.

“Oh, no, truly. Apparently Mrs. Clarkson wanted a marriage like yours to Mrs. Tallmadge. Therefore she broke off a previous engagement and allowed me my pursuit.”

 

~*~

 

On Sunday, the Clarksons attended church with the Tallmadges. Ben and Mary sat in their usual pew and made room for their guests. For the duration of the minister’s sermon, Mary could feel the gaze of her neighbors. No doubt they wanted to finally meet Kitty, Mary had talked for the entire month of August about her sister, the invitation Ben had sent to Dr. Clarkson, and Kitty’s intention to stay until two weeks after the baby arrived. In her imagination, Mary figured they were trying to see if she measured up to what Mary had described to them. They must be disappointed that they would have to wait until the end of the service to even see Kitty’s face or talk to her.

The standing and sitting and standing and sitting and standing and sitting bothered Mary’s back, so she remained seated for the entire service. During several points, the baby moved. Most of the time she regretted that they were in public and she couldn’t just reach over and place Ben’s hand atop her belly. Every time, without fail, he felt the baby move, his eyes would light up and he’d look at her like she’d given him all the stars in the sky.

She’d let Kitty feel the baby kick any chance Kitty wanted. That turned out to be a lot, Mary seriously underestimated her sister’s excitement to be an aunt. The offer of feeling the baby’s movements had not been extended to Dr. Clarkson, though. Mary had asked Kitty if her husband would be interested but Kitty laughed. “A few of his classmates asked him if he would deliver our children and I’m not sure he’s ready to be a father. Don’t spook him, he’s like a wild horse.”

The sermon ended and they rose to sing. That meant if she turned her head slightly towards Ben, his ass would be prominent in her line of vision. This was the worst part of sitting while everyone else was standing. She saw his ass and _missed_ him. Sex had become uncomfortable. Between frequent aches and pains like her feet, headaches, and nausea, she felt the need to pee all the time, this made doing much of anything a chore. Her swollen size made her feel unattractive, even though Ben called her beautiful and never acted as if she weren’t, she felt unattractive. For all these reasons, she’d avoided sex. To her immense relief, Ben took it all in stride. He never pressed her to explain why she said “not right now” or “I don’t want to”. He never tried to convince her to have sex anyway and never complained she was depriving him.

But all the negatives about sex now didn’t mean she didn’t miss the physical intimacy nor that her sex drive had left her.

And every time he stood that close with his ass that near her face, she couldn’t help but appreciate just how _goddamn beautiful_ he was.

How much she _wanted_ him.

All thoughts completely inappropriate for church!

But then she remembered that they were all made in the Lord’s image and she supposed it was ok to marvel at the Lord’s image/handiwork. 

The service ended and they left for lunch. The invitation from Mrs. Grey had been issued as soon as she knew Kitty and Dr. Clarkson were in town. No debate had been offered on anything other than the date. If the baby should arrive on or just before the date, Mrs. Grey had added when she took Mary aside upon issuing the invitation, they would of course reschedule.

Lunch passed smoothly and then the men retired to their own circle. Mrs. Grey led them to her sitting room. “So, Mrs. Clarkson, do you share your husband's medical interests?”

“Slightly,” Kitty admired the fine needlepoint work on a cushion. “I like delivering babies.”

 “I see, and will you be assisting your sister when her time comes?” 

“Oh, yes,” Kitty grinned. “The plan is I will stay until two weeks after the baby comes. Dr. Clarkson can only stay until the beginning of August. Then he really needs to set up his practice.”

“Do you hope to have him help the delivery?”

Kitty looked at Mary, uncertain. They hadn’t talked about it. A large part of that was due to Mary’s uncertainty. The idea of being so exposed, so vulnerable in front of women was intimidating in and of itself. The only man who’d ever seen her naked was Ben.

Well, her father, she supposed, but after a certain age, no.

Benjamin was certainly the only man to ever touch her intimately. 

A doctor – even her sister’s husband – seeing her and assisting her – even in a time of emergency – just made her feel uncomfortable.

But how could she tell her sister that without her sister hearing “your husband makes me uncomfortable?”

“I think it unwise to have men in the confinement. They haven’t been necessary in all the years before! Just what do they have to offer? They’ve never given birth and they’re unlikely to have ever seen a birth. Might as well invite a chicken into the room for all the good it would do. It might even lead to worse consequences! The last thing you want in a medical experience is someone without knowledge messing with things.”

Mary did not fail to notice Kitty brushing at her hair, as if a curl had come loose. It was a tell Kitty had picked up in Philadelphia with all the society women. Quickly, Mary changed the subject to the latest news coming from the governor.

“I’m sorry,” Mary apologized to Kitty just before they all retired for bed that night. “She’s very…convicted –“

“I’m not mad, I just don’t think it was her place to say anything. It’s about what you feel most comfortable with and if that means William assists, then he will. I won’t let her get her way if it’s not what you want. Besides, William would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Good night,” Mary kissed her sister’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kitty put her hand on Mary’s stomach. “And I love you too, little one. Just promise me I will always be your favorite aunt.” The baby kicked.

 

~*~

 

In the middle of the night, Mary went to get a snack. She rummaged through her pantry until she found something that satisfied her. She ate and started for bed again. As she passed the guest room Kitty and Dr. Clarkson occupied, she heard some odd sounds that made her pause. Just what was that? The wind? Did the window need to be oiled?

“Oh God!” she heard Dr. Clarkson moan and she froze in horror and realization.

Unfreezing, she hurried to her room and clambered into bed. Her ungraceful hurried movements woke Ben who helped her settle and then he snuggled up to her. “Ben…I…”

“What?” he asked, his voice rough.

“I don’t know if I should tell you…”

“I can keep secrets,” he assured her. “Just ask Abe.”

“I…I heard them…having…relations.”

It took Ben longer than Mary would have liked for him to understand that. Then he laughed, “Oh my God.”

“That’s basically what he said, yes,” Mary giggled as well.

Ben pulled at her shoulders so she rolled to face him. His face went slack and he said softly but in a tone that sent shivers through Mary’s body and reminded her of her impure thoughts at church, “Oh my God!”

“Oh! Don’t!” she pushed him away in exaggerated disgust. “That’s creepy!”

“Oh God,” he moaned again, tipping his head back and closing his eyes.

“Stop!” she shrieked and then looked with worry at the door. Then again, she doubted anyone would come to investigate.

“All right, all right,” he acquiesced. He helped her settle back on her other side, snuggled up, and she was almost asleep when he moaned again, “Oh God!”

Mary shrieked, bolted up, and smacked him with a pillow. He laughed hard, deflected the second blow of the pillow, and pulled her against him.


	8. Chapter 8

Dr. Clarkson’s first letter arrived in the middle of October. Kitty read parts of it aloud to her that afternoon. Most of it detailed the settling in to his practice, questions about how she would like their house to be set up, questions of what instructions he should give to the hired hands in regards to the set up of what would be Kitty’s domains: her sitting rooms, her kitchen, the dining room, a sewing room –

In short, it listed details that only served to remind Mary that the child still curled inside her was preventing her sister from her life. The sooner Mary’s waters broke, the sooner Kitty’s life would return. And while it wasn’t the exciting life that men could have if they chose (traveling, politics, warfare) it was a life that Kitty deserved to have and be engaged in.

Mary smiled with her sister, offered advice, gave her paper, ink, and pen, and then left her sister to write back to Dr. Clarkson. She found Prince and sent him to the store to purchase some tea. She hesitated before sending him out, tempted to tell him to be discreet. Yet telling him to do so might cause more harm than conceal anything she wanted. Besides, Benjamin wouldn’t know her purpose for the tea. Most wouldn’t. Some women might suspect and that was why she wanted the discretion. She didn’t want to be gossiped about and there was an unfortunate use for the tea as well. In addition to its use as a parturient, it could also be used to end a pregnancy.

Prince returned quickly with the tea and made no mention of any problems. In fact he didn’t seem bothered, merely asked if after he finished mucking the stalls, he could be excused to go fishing. Mary nodded and went to make some tea. She made chocolate for Kitty and brought it to her.

Kitty scattered some sand over her letter and sealed it. She paused, sniffed, and turned to the tea cup. “What kind of tea is that?” Mary told her. Kitty set her cup of chocolate down and dashed the cup from Mary’s hands. “Have you taken leave of your senses?!”

“Oh come –“

“That is dangerous!”

“Kitty, we both know it can also help –“

“No, if you’re so eager to go into confinement, you’re going to do this properly!”

Doing it properly evidently meant going outside. The leaves were turning orange, brown, red, and yellow. Many had fallen and the air had the undeniable scent of a cooling earth. Kitty brought over a rake and handed it to her. “Rake up the leaves,” she ordered and then went back inside.

For a few minutes, Mary awkwardly stood holding the rake. Then she looked around the lawn and sighed. Exercise was another way to hurry herself into confinement but it was precisely this that she had wanted to avoid. It was easier to just drink some tea.

But she raked the leaves into a good-sized pile and thought of Mastic. There hadn’t been much raking there. The farmhands and slaves did all that. They had to in order to do their jobs well. But even so, she and Nicky had often assisted for the sole pleasure of jumping into the leaf piles. When they introduced Kitty to jumping into them, she ended up with a slug crawling up her leg. She had screamed and run around the yard. Slaves and workers dropped their tools and hurried after, trying to find the cause of her distress. She’d gone in a helter skelter fashion to their mother and screamed herself hoarse, shaking her skirts when no one could understand a word she’d thrown at them. Eventually their mother had stripped Kitty down to her shift but found no slug, only a drying trail of slime on Kitty’s leg.

Kitty never jumped into another leaf pile again.

 After raking up a good sized pile, Mary considered it. Then she dropped the rake, backed up, ran, and jumped into the pile. 

The top leaves flew up in the air and floated down with ease. The bottom ones either crushed under her or moved aside to let her take their former place.

Mary’s back throbbed from the landing. She felt her stomach carefully, but the baby seemed unharmed by her antics.

There was a rush in the air and she at first attributed it to her ears becoming reacquainted with a stiller position than running. But she heard the crunching of trodden on leaves and turned her head to find Prince moving to her side. “Mrs. Tallmadge! Are you all right? Should I fetch the doctor? Should I fetch the Colonel?” Prince’s eyes could not get any wider, Mary thought, staring up into his large brown eyes.

Prince reached out towards her and then stopped.

“I’m fine,” Mary assured him, smiling. “Just having some fun.”

Prince helped her up and escorted her into the house, not letting go of her until she was safe inside.

By bedtime, labor had not begun and Mary felt slightly disappointed.

 

~*~

 

The next day, Kitty dismissed Prince from his daily stall mucking duty and instead marched Mary out to do it. She prepared the laundry - even though it was not laundry day – so Mary could have more exercise. Prince scrambled around the house, collecting clothes and linens and anything that could be washed – even napkins and doilies.

Ben came home for lunch to find Mary asleep, Kitty folding his breeches, and a meal cooked by Kitty. Prince approached him to see if he could work in the store. Ben agreed and Prince commented that he was worried that Mrs. Tallmadge’s condition was adversely affecting her. Alarmed, Ben demanded Prince explain himself. And so Prince recounted what had happened the day before with the leaf pile and the strenuous chores Mary did under Kitty’s observation.

Before returning to work, with Prince tagging along, Ben approached Kitty. “Please stop whatever plan you and my wife have in motion. I kept her from your wedding to keep her healthy and safe, I ask that you do nothing to jeopardize her.”

Kitty did not bother to hide the condescension in her voice as she reminded him, “I am the one who has attended many, many births, not you. I know what I’m doing.”

Ben scoffed but he let it go, merely checked on his sleeping wife before he went back to work. There was a slight chill to the room, so he covered her with a blanket that he retrieved from the linen chest at the end of their bed. The flowers on her dressing table, he noticed, had started to wilt. He picked up the vase of flowers and carried it downstairs. The flowers and water he threw outside and gave the now empty vase to Kitty.

 

~*~

 

“Nothing,” Mary observed to Kitty the next day. She had taken one of Ben’s pocket watches and placed it in her own pocket. He wouldn’t miss it just yet. It was his old one, the one his father had given him before he went to Yale, the one he’d carried throughout the war. It was plain, with his initials engraved on the front.

For his most recent birthday, Mary had gifted him with a new one. It wasn’t that much different, just newer and kept better time. It had a simple engraving on the back: _to my husband for his 31 st birthday._

Mary had wanted to carry his pocket watch in case her pains started. Then she could see if they were progressing or if they were just normal aches and pains.

“Well, there are other ways to hurry this along,” Kitty prepared the meat since handling it turned Mary’s stomach. Mary was kneading the bread dough.

“I know, you won’t let me.”

“I wasn’t referring to the tea!” Kitty made a gesture with a cutlet of chicken. Stripped of its supporting bones, the meat hung limp and served less to assist her point and more of a reason for the women to giggle. “Exercise just reminds the baby that you have a life outside of carrying him. Tea or medicines just isn’t natural. Birth is natural so hurrying it should be too.”

Mary thought her sister was being ridiculous. Medicine was natural. The tea was natural.

“But another method you could try is lying with your husband.”

Mary paused in her kneading. Unbidden, the night she’d overheard her sister and Dr. Clarkson came to mind. “I do not wish to discuss this with you!” she stammered.

 

~*~

 

After Kitty went to bed, Mary had a midnight snack and included the tea. 

Nothing happened.

 

~*~

 

On the 19th of October, after dinner, they went outside to play lawn bowls. It was one game they all could agree upon as Ben wasn’t much for cards and Mary found many other outdoor games. Besides, at this time, they would have to keep the game short as it would soon be dark. Even so, Mary kept asking others to play for her. Eventually, Mary retired inside and figured she would prepare a snack for everyone before they headed for bed or for baths.

She stood on her tiptoes to get a cup down from the top shelf and when she returned to her normal stance, she wanted to smash the cup on the counter. She’d had an accident and would need to change her shift.

Kitty finished preparing the snack and after enjoying it, they bid each other good night and went up to bed.

In bed, Mary tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. As the fall arrived and the summer heat was sucked back into Hell, Mary had hoped she would sleep easier.

Apparently not.

Her fidgeting kept Ben awake and he asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

“Maybe a back rub?” she asked hopefully. Ben obliged and for a while it worked. The pain abated but soon enough it was back and she rolled from side to side, waking Ben. He offered to give her another back rub but the thought of anyone touching her made her want to vomit. “Don’t touch me,” she snapped. Ben threw up his hands and scooted as far away as he could.

Around two in the morning, she told him, through tears, to wake Kitty. Worried, Ben donned a dressing gown and went to wake his sister-in-law. He was not allowed back in the room while Mary and Kitty conferred and then Kitty stuck her head out into the hall where Ben sat. “Kindly send for Mrs. Bell, if you would.”

Ben rose to his feet, straightened his dressing gown, and started for the stairs. He would go, better to let someone in the house (Prince) get a full night’s sleep. 

Mrs. Bell returned with Ben and then sent him to fetch a few more people and within an hour and a half, Ben’s house was teeming with women.

This could only mean that Mary’s confinement had begun. He went upstairs to ask for confirmation of this and was promptly told to stay out of the way. He wasn’t allowed into his own room to see his own wife who was having his own child, but they let Marmalade inside. The cat’s tail swished against Ben’s leg as he meandered into the room.

A male cat could enter the room but Ben could not. He spent a good five minutes staring at the door, mentally debating if he should knock and point out that the cat was male or not. Eventually he decided not to, as it was a ridiculous argument. Ben left the hallway to go make himself a cup of coffee. 

He didn’t actually know how long her confinement would last. He didn’t remember much about births when he’d lived in Setauket, he’d been too young. If there was a baby being born, he and his friends would be sent outdoors to play or to another house. At Yale, it wasn’t a concern. At Wethersfield, well, it was similar to Yale. Sure, he encountered more women and therefore more women who were with child, but his social circle didn’t place him in close proximity to them.

Perhaps he should have discussed this with Mary before? But it was too late now. But how long could it take?

 

~*~

 

How the hell did _anyone_ survive this? And to think she thought cramps during her normal cycle were hell. This was worse.

How had her mother survived this?

She wanted her mother. She wished to apologize to her for the pain she’d caused, for any pain she’d ever caused her.

She wanted Benjamin. She wanted to bury herself in his arms, to have him hold her and tell her it would be all right.

No.

She wanted to punch him.

This was his fault. In all her life, she’d never endured such pain before meeting him. Before letting him into her bed.

Not that he deserved too much blame. He didn’t want her to suffer, she knew that –

She still wanted to punch him. 

“Kitty,” she whispered. Her sister stroked her hair away from her face. “I left instructions in case –“

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine –“

“They’re in my copy of _Common Sense_ – just…remember that.”

 

~*~

 

The hustle and bustle of the women in the halls woke Prince. He climbed out of bed and peeked outside his door. Upon seeing and hearing the number of people, Prince dressed in the dark and then went out to find the Colonel. Prince checked the Colonel’s office, but he wasn’t there. Next he tried the sitting rooms.

A lady passed by with a tray of tea and sandwiches. “Excuse me, ma’am,” Prince addressed her. “Have you seen the Colonel?”

“Oh yes, he’s sitting in the hall outside his bedchambers.”

Prince followed her up the stairs but stayed out of the room while she went in. Instead he turned to the Colonel who was indeed sitting on the floor of the hall. “Sir?”

The Colonel, wearing his night clothes and a dressing gown, hair not in its usual queue, with a cup of coffee next to his knee, turned to Prince. “Why are you up?” he asked, frowning. Then he nodded. “The noise disturbed you. I apologize.”

Mrs. Tallmadge’s painful groan was audible to them and the Colonel tensed. Prince knelt down next to him. “Is there anything I can get you, sir?”

“No, no, thank you,” the Colonel’s hand twitched as if he intended to wave dismissively but couldn’t.

Mrs. Tallmadge screamed and the Colonel bolted to his feet and opened the door.

A lady Prince didn’t remember the name of quickly blocked him from further entry. Prince got to his feet and helped pull the Colonel back into the hall. It was more difficult than Prince imagined. He’d worked with the Colonel on many projects; he knew the man’s strength. But he didn’t know the strength of a man who was desperate to be where he could not be.

When at last the Colonel relented and backed into the hall, he crumpled back to the floor and groaned. He raked his hands through his hair.

“Is there anything I can get you, sir?”

“No, please, go back to bed, Prince. Get some sleep. One of us ought to at least.”

Instead, Prince sat with the Colonel through the night and into the morning.

 

~*~

 

“That’s it, Polly, that’s it!” Kitty exclaimed breathlessly. “Just one more little push –“

Mary pressed her face into her pillow and followed her sister’s instructions. 

“Here he is!” Mary turned to look for her baby and saw him in time to see him cry.

 

~*~

 

At the cry, Ben dropped his coffee cup and got to his feet. He started for the door and Prince reached out to lay a cautionary hand on his arm. Ben glanced at Prince uncertainly, questions in his eyes that Prince could not begin to answer, much less understand.

The two stood there until the door opened and Kitty invited Ben to come meet his son. Ben felt Prince let go of him and reached back to pull Prince in along with him. But as soon as he crossed the threshold, he let go of Prince and moved rapidly to Mary’s side.

Her hair, loose and slightly damp with sweat, hid her face while she gazed down at the baby in her arms. Ben sat gingerly on the bed and brushed her hair back behind her ear. She looked up at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, puffy cheeks, and her lips looked as though she’d bit them several times.

He’d never seen her look more beautiful. She was radiant. 

“This is your son,” she whispered. “This is William.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> William Smith Tallmadge was born October 20, 1785. He was named for Ben's brother who died as a prisoner of war and for Ben's mother (Susanna Smith).

**Author's Note:**

> In real life, John was Ben's brother. Since show!Ben only had Samuel for a brother, John's been turned into a cousin for this fic. 
> 
> Benjamin Tallmadge is totally a gambling man. Dude gambled on privateering and then on currency speculation for income during the war, then basically started a business on credit, kinda did some land speculation and operated his store as a quasi-bank. 
> 
> And Mary's lying here, she totally suspects she's pregnant.


End file.
